Birds

"Sing away, ay, sing away, Merry little bird Always gayest of the gay, Though a woodland roundelay You ne'er sung nor heard; Though your life from youth to age Passes in a narrow cage."

"Bird of the amber beak, Bird of the golden wing! Thy dower is thy carolling; Thou hast not far to seek Thy bread, nor needest wine To make thy utterance divine; Thou art canopied and clothed And unto Song betrothed."

"Cormorants are hated. In one popular anti-cormorant treatise, the bird is blamed for its very existence: “A war is being waged between the interests of sport fishermen and a predatory bird that has no local natural enemy. The bird’s sole purpose is to reproduce and eat fish.” Of course, obtaining food and reproducing are two primary goals of any species, including our own."

"The voice of the duck is the glory of the marshes."

"How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks."

"Of course the vary a good deal. John’s, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingoes flying over it at which John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it."

"The francolin's voice is the glory of the fields."

"Gulls present a unique challenge, not only because most of them look similar, but also because plumage varies drastically depending on the age of a bird. To think that a juvenile and adult herring gull are related is to suspend disbelief in earnest."

"“That’s a great white heron,” my father told me. “As close to an angel as a bird can get.”"

"I am the mistress, so let my birds assemble for me where the sheaves are gathered! I am Nance, so let my birds assemble for me where the sheaves are gathered! Let the birds of heaven and earth stand at my service! Let every bird without a name bring offerings!"

"The Jackdaw sat in the Cardinal's chair! Bishop and Abbot and Prior were there, Many a monk and many a friar, Many a knight and many a squire, With a great many more of lesser degree,— In sooth a goodly company; And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee. Never, I ween, Was a prouder seen, Read of in books or dreamt of in dreams, Than the Cardinal Lord Archbishop of Rheims."

"An old miser kept a tame jackdaw, that used to steal pieces of money, and hide them in a hole, which a cat observing, asked, "Why he would hoard up those round shining things that he could make no use of?" "Why," said the jackdaw, "my master has a whole chestfull, and makes no more use of them than I do.""

"What, is the jay more precious than the lark, Because his feathers are more beautiful?"

"She stared out at a kestrel hovering on the wing in the distance. How little it cared for the world around it, content to drift and let the wind take it where it may."

"Changed to a lapwing by th' avenging god, He made the barren waste his lone abode, And oft on soaring pinions hover'd o'er The lofty palace then his own no more."

"The false lapwynge, full of trecherye."

"Amid thy desert-walks the lapwing flies, And tires their echoes with unvaried cries."

"For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs Close by the ground, to near our conference."

"Is it for thee the linnet pours his throat? Loves of his own, and raptures swell the note."

"Perch'd on the cedar's topmost bough, And gay with gilded wings, Perchance the patron of his vow, Some artless linnet sings."

"The first time I saw one in Africa I had much the same feeling as Mr. Malik was having now. It was one of happy elation. There is something about the shape of the bird, with its long curved beak and clown’s crest, and the colour of the bird, with its bright russet plumage speckled with bands of black and white—there is even some thing about the very name of the bird—it just cheers you up. Forget the bluebird of happiness, give me a hoopoe every time."

"The beauty and genius of a work of art may be reconceived, though its first material expression be destroyed; a vanished harmony may yet again inspire the composer; but when the last individual of a race of living things breathes no more, another heaven and another earth must pass before such a one can be again."

"Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along."

"Birds of a feather will gather together."

"Over increasingly large areas of the United States, spring now comes unheralded by the return of the birds, and the early mornings are strangely silent where once they were filled with the beauty of bird song."

"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."

"You must not think, sir, to catch old birds with chaff."

"Never look for birds of this year in the nests of the last."

"For birds the goal is simple—to secure a territory, to win a mate, to contribute the only lasting legacy of their brief lives—the passing on of genes to the next generation."

"Do you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the Dove, The Linnet and Thrush say, "I love and I love!" In the winter they're silent—the wind is so strong; What it says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song. But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather, And singing, and loving—all come back together. But the Lark is so brimful of gladness and love, The green fields below him, the blue sky above, That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he— "I love my Love, and my Love loves me!""

"Thou little bird, thou dweller by the sea, Why takest thou its melancholy voice, And with that boding cry Along the waves dost thou fly? Oh! rather, bird, with me Through this fair land rejoice!"

"Dame naturis menstralis."

"Bird on the horizon, sittin' on a fence He's singin' his song for me at his own expense And I'm just like that bird, oh, oh Singin' just for you"

"A bird of the air shall carry the voice, and that which hath wings shall tell the matter."

"To warm their little loves the birds complain."

"Mayr became a mentor for many promising young men with an interest in birds. He urged them to pick a bird, to follow and study it, to learn the secrets of its breeding life, its winter habits, to take in small details that no one else knew because no one else had ever watched so closely. Mayr argued against a stream of ornithologists who hoped to make the science entirely academic, feeling that serious amateurs could make valuable contributions to the field of ornithology if they watched birds seriously and well."

"The nightingale has a lyre of gold, The lark's is a clarion call, And the blackbird plays but a box-wood flute, But I love him best of all. For his song is all the joy of life, And we in the mad spring weather, We two have listened till he sang, Our hearts and lips together."

"A feather in hand is better than a bird in the air."

"When the swallows homeward fly, When the roses scattered lie, When from neither hill or dale, Chants the silvery nightingale: In these words my bleeding heart Would to thee its grief impart; When I thus thy image lose Can I, ah! can I, e'er know repose?"

"Better one byrde in hand than ten in the wood."

"Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cygno."

"Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these? Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught The dialect they speak, where melodies Alone are the interpreters of thought? Whose household words are songs in many keys, Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught!"

"Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?"

"The bird is my neighbour, a whimsical fellow and dim; There is in the lake a nobility falling on him. The bird is a noble, he turns to the sky for a theme, And the ripples are thoughts coming out to the edge of a dream. The bird is both ancient and excellent, sober and wise, But he never could spend all the love that is sent for his eyes. He bleats no instruction, he is not an arrogant drummer; His gown is simplicity - blue as the smoke of the summer. How patient he is as he puts out his wings for the blue! His eyes are as old as the twilight, and calm as the dew. The bird is my neighbour, he leaves not a claim for a sigh, He moves as the guest of the sunlight - he roams in the sky. The bird is a noble, he turns to the sky for a theme, And the ripples are thoughts coming out to the edge of a dream."

"Hear how the birds, on ev'ry blooming spray, With joyous musick wake the dawning day!"

"In all of nature, there is no greater spectacle than the fall migration of birds."

"A little bird told me."

"Well I wish I could be like a bird in the sky/How sweet it would be/If I found I could fly/I'd soar to the sun/And look down at the sea/And I sing 'cause I know/How it feels to be free"

"That byrd ys nat honest That fylythe hys owne nest."

"The worlds most frequent flyers don't have platinum status, free upgrades, or even passports. Every hour, millions of these undocumented immigrants pour across major political borders, and nobody thinks of building walls to keep them out. It would be impossible to anyway. Birds are true global citizens, free to come and go as they please."